His Best Friends Girl
by Dizzybunny
Summary: Sherlock overhears Molly on the phone - She's dating John. Cue an unhappy Sherlock.
1. Chapter 1

His Best Friends Girl

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just adore them. Please don't sue – I promise I am not worth it.

Characters: Sherlock, Molly, John (So far)

OK. This was one of those little things that go around and around in my head and won't go away until I write it down.

All comments, suggestions and corrections are very welcome. I am not sure how far this will go – probably just a few chapters. It's pure fluff, and doesn't really have a massive plot line.

SH SH SH SH SH SH SH

Molly glanced at the clock on the wall of her office, and groaned. It was late again. 9pm. She should have finished at 5pm, but an urgent case had come in, and Lestrade was hoping she'd provide immediate answers. Molly was used to working on her own, and didn't mind being alone in the lab. She had a habit when working late of putting her small earphones in, and listening to classical music whilst she worked. Her small office was just off to one side, and from her chair, she couldn't see the door to the main lab. Therefore she didn't see or hear Sherlock enter the lab and take up a seat at the bench and proceed to switch on one of the microscopes.

Molly finally finished her notes, removed her earphones, and picked up the phone and dialed his mobile number. "Hi Greg, it's me Molly. I have the results you were looking for. I hope it's good news. The autopsy shows that Mrs McGregor died from a stroke." She paused. "I would say 99% sure it was natural causes. She was 92, I know her doctor had prescribed various medication for high blood pressure, and unless the toxicology reports shows different, I have no reason at this stage to think it was suspicious." Molly smiled down the phone. "I've just sent you an email with my preliminary report. No problem, have a good evening. Night Greg."

Hanging up the phone she stretched and rolled her shoulders. Her mobile phone sitting on her desk suddenly pinged. Molly sighed. She didn't have to look to know it was her mother. No one else texted her. She remembered a time when Sherlock had started to text to check whether she was in the morgue before he turned up. Those were the ones that both excited her and filled her with dread. Excitement that she would see him, but dread for the inevitable feeling of uselessness that he'd leave her with. He had finally given up texting her when he realized that she nearly was always in the lab.

Reluctantly she decided that it would be best to call her mother now, she could then plead that it was late, she still needed to get home, and she could cut the call short. She dialed her mother's number from memory, and tucked the handset under her ear, so she could start to tidy up.

Sherlock hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but with the lab so quiet, he couldn't help but overhear her one sided conversation.

"Hi Mum," Molly said pleasantly.

_Obviously false, she's trying too hard_

"I got your text."

_Duty not desire_

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm still at work, but just finishing up now. Yes I know it's late, but the police needed the results on a body urgently."

_The police not Greg. She didn't want to mention his name. A man's name. Avoiding questioning about a man. _

"Yes mum. No mum. I've been busy. No, I didn't call Tim."

_Tim?_

"Because I didn't want to."

_Who is Tim? Irrelevant – she didn't call him._

"Because I'm busy, and I am not that desperate that I need my mother setting me up on blind dates."

_Blind date. Mother worried about lack of grandchildren probably. _Sherlock put another slide under the microscope.

"Look Mum. I'm kind of seeing someone."

_What? Who? _Sherlock thought surprised, almost dropping the slide.

"No one you know. Just someone at work. Well, not at work, but I see him at the hospital," said Molly, twirling the phone cord in her fingers.

_OK, she said "Him" – good, a male then. Not a colleague. A patient? A social worker? _Sherlock began to run through a list of possible candidates.

"It's early days, Mum. We are just taking it very slowly."

Sherlock continued to listen to the conversation, the slide forgotten in his hand.

"Look, his name is John. He's a locum doctor at a local surgery."

Sherlock sat very still. _Molly was talking about John. Molly was dating John? John hadn't mentioned they were going out. _He sat very still, awaiting more information.

"No mum, I am not bringing him round for tea." Molly sighed. "As I said, it's early days. He's very kind and thoughtful, and we like each other's company."

Sherlock mentally snorted. _Ha! Kind and thoughtful, like each other's company. Not exactly passionate then. Although given John's usual track record with woman, it usually only took a couple of dates before John got them into bed. Oh good grief, mental image of John and Molly in bed – delete image quickly._

"Mum, it's late, and I haven't eaten. I need to go home and feed Toby. I'll call you at the weekend, OK."

Sherlock realized that if Molly was about to leave, she would see him. _Did that matter? She'd realize he'd heard her conversation. Again - did that matter?_ Sherlock was torn. _Should she know that he knew, she was seeing John? Would her knowing that he knew be an issue? They had obviously been keeping it low key._

Sherlock suddenly found himself on the other side of the lab door and halfway down the hallway, without even realizing he had made a conscious decision to leave the lab. He turned around and began to walk back towards the lab, just as Molly exited.

"Ah Molly," he said. "Going home?"

Molly juggled her coat and bag as she tried to find her key to lock the lab. "Er… yes, actually. Did you want something?"

"Never mind, it can wait until morning," said Sherlock.

Molly stood looking at him. "Really?"

"It's fine," Sherlock looked at his watch. "I didn't realize how late it was."

Molly couldn't help but stare. Sherlock was actually being considerate. _Oh my goodness, is he dying?_ Molly though. She took a step forward, "are you sure OK? I mean, you don't normally worry about the time."

Sherlock gave a tight smile. "John is trying to get me to keep better hours."

Molly smiled, and Sherlock's stomach gave a little lurch. _She smiled at the mention of John's name. This is more serious than I thought._

"You're lucky to have someone like that looking after you," she said.

_She wanted John to look after her like that_. Sherlock thought sadly. _Sadly? Good grief what had come over him._

Molly turned the key in the lock, and started to walk down the corridor towards the stairs, Sherlock trailing after her. Molly looked over her shoulder. _Gosh, he looks so lost. I wonder what's wrong._

They left the building together in silence. Once outside Sherlock waved his arm and a taxi immediate stopped for him.

"Good night Sherlock," Molly said politely "I'll see you tomorrow then." A statement not a question. She then started to walk towards the main road.

Sherlock paused. "Molly, wait."

She turned, surprised to be called back. "What?"

"I can drop you off," said Sherlock indicating the taxi. "I'm going your way."

"Which way?" said Molly confused. "Baker Street is nowhere near where I live."

"I'm not going to Baker Street," he said. "My brother asked to see me, I'm going to visit him. And I am practically going past your house."

Molly looked slightly dubious, "are you sure you aren't going out of your way?"

"It's fine Molly, get in."

Molly gratefully climbed into the taxi. "Thanks very much. I don't enjoy the tube very much at this time of night, so I usually walk."

Sherlock nodded. "Canonbury Road," he said to the driver.

"Number 45, please."

Molly sat back as the taxi pulled away. "I always think there is something so decadent about taking a taxi in London."

Sherlock looked over puzzled. "Decadent."

Molly lowered her voice, "it's so much more expensive than the tube."

He pondered her comment. "I'm guessing you watch your pennies." He looked at her clothing, all of it was good quality, but old. Her handbag was a cheap supermarket one; functional and practical, but not exactly stylish.

Molly shrugged. "Living in London is expensive. My mortgage costs an arm and leg."

"You're buying your own house?"

Molly giggled. "Flat. Sherlock, it's a flat. Nothing fancy like yours and John's. But it's my little piece of London. All mine with a balcony and the tiniest garden you've ever seen. And I can't imagine being anywhere else."

Sherlock tried not to stare at her. He was like he was seeing a completely different person. Not the professionally competent, but slightly scatter brained pathologist, but Molly, a flesh and blood person. A person who had a mortgage, 1 cat, and had to carefully consider each purchase.

They continued the rest of the journey in silence, until the taxi stopped. "Well, this is me." Molly climbed out the cab. "Do you… Would you like to come in for coffee?"

Sherlock hesitate. _She was seeing John, she shouldn't be inviting him in. But she was John's girlfriend therefore a mutual friend. Did he actually think of Molly as a friend?_ "Thank you Molly, but I need to be going."

"Oh OK." She smiled brightly, and shut the door. "I'll see you tomorrow then. Thank you very much for the ride, I mean lift. Thank you for the lift. Er, Good night Sherlock."

"Good Night Molly."

He looked back as the taxi pulled away, watching Molly wave; a short "bye" wave. He felt sad. He'd almost accepted her offer of coffee. _I want to see what her flat is like. Is it jumbled and chaotic like Molly, or is it clean and clinical like her lab. But no, if she is seeing John, it wouldn't be fair. I missed my opportunity with Molly – I see that now. But did I even want an opportunity? _

"Where to then mate?" asked the driver interrupting his thoughts.

Sherlock sighed. "Baker Street, 221B Baker Street."

Sherlock gazed out at the city, and sighed.

The cabbie suddenly pulled him out of his stupor by speaking. "You know the thing with us Cabbies, is that we see so many aspects of a relationship, but in tiny little snapshots; just the length of the cab ride." He paused to look at Sherlock in the rear view mirror. "It allows you to see a lot of people, and you can learn to read them in an instance."

"Really?" said Sherlock only half listening.

"Yep. You care about her, she cares about you. But either you're too scared or too pig headed to admit to it."

"And what makes you think that?" Sherlock asked sarcastically.

The cabbie grinned, "because we're going back the way we came to Baker Street, not to wherever you told her you were going. You weren't going her way, you just didn't want her to leave."

Sherlock ran his hands through his hair. "I wanted to make sure she got home safely. She's dating my best friend."

"Ah," said the cabbie. "That's tricky then. Especially as she likes you."

Sherlock glanced up.

"Look mate. She invited you in for coffee. Friend or no friend; that was her asking you to take a chance." The taxi pulled up outside Sherlock's flat. "There you go."

Sherlock passed the man his fare, and a healthy tip on top. "Thanks."

The cabbie nodded, and pulled away. "Good luck."

Sherlock stood on the pavement and looked up at the lit windows of the 1st floor. _Home. Well at least his little piece of London. Even if it was rented. How did Molly manage a mortgage? She must live on tinned spaghetti hoops. _Sherlock saw a shadow past the window, and propelled himself towards the door.

Trudging up stairs he heard John speaking on his mobile phone and paused at the landing, "It's fine Molly. No, I understand completely," John laughed. "Harry would have said exactly the same thing. No worries. See you tomorrow."

Sherlock waited a moment until John had clearly ended the call, and completed the rest of the journey up the stairs.

"Evening," John said conversationally, when he saw Sherlock enter the room. "Everything alright?"

Sherlock nodded. "Fine." He removed his coat and scarf and left them hanging on the door. "You?"

"Yep. Not bad at all." John stretched out in his favorite chair and wriggled his toes in front of the fire. "I had a great day at work. We have a new nurse helping out. I even remember to get the shopping, and managed to get the number of the checkout girl. Yep a pretty good day."

Sherlock cocked his head on one side. "You picked up the checkout girl?"

"Not exactly, but she gave me her phone number. Not that I actually intend to call her." John looked around but Sherlock was already retreating to his room.

Sherlock paced around his room. _John was seeing Molly, yet he was still chasing some other piece of….. piece of …. skirt! And eyeing up a new nurse. How could John do that to her? It would crush her if she found out. Molly would never stand for someone being unfaithful. _He flung himself down on the bed.

_Why was he getting so worked up over this? Because if John screws things up with Molly, she might stop access to the lab. Then where would he work? Who would assist him? Who would provide the organs for his experiments? Who would smile and bring him coffee? He'd miss the smell of her perfume – Calyx by Perscriptives – an unusual scent, but then Molly was pretty unusual. He'd miss her smile. _Sherlock stopped thinking and it suddenly hit him - He loved Molly Hooper.

Good grief. He loved his best friend's girl.

SH SH SH SH SH SH SH

#believeinsherlock

Thanks to all that read. Come on, I don't bite, hit review! Make my day.


	2. Chapter 2

His Best Friends Girl

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just adore them. Please don't sue – I promise I am not worth it.

All comments, suggestions and corrections are very welcome. It's pure fluff, and doesn't really have a massive plot line.

SH SH SH SH SH SH SH SH

John was used to Sherlock's extreme mood swings. He remembered a time when Sherlock had been on such a natural high after a case that he had elected to walk from one side of London to the other along the river, to test a theory about river silt. However he also remembered the incredible lows that Sherlock could experience. Violin playing at 3am seemed to be Sherlock's favored method of warning everyone else to stay away. However Sherlock cooking breakfast for John, and then going for "a walk" was a new one.

John was still staring at his mug of tea, partly in shock of Sherlock actually making him tea, and also not completely convinced that this wasn't yet another experiment of Sherlock's and he was the guinea pig. Leaving the tea to one side he looked at the toast, and then gentle nibbled a corner. Yep, that was indeed strawberry jam, and Sherlock had even managed not to burn the toast. _What was going on with that man's head today?_

Deciding that whatever was going on in Sherlock's head, probably wasn't going to 1) kill him, 2) give him food poisoning or 3) involve him being thrown in jail. He tucked into the prepared breakfast. _Come on John_, he thought, _be fair, only 2 and 3 had happened with Sherlock, I nearly managed option 1 all by myself._

Sherlock return from his walk around 11am and immediately took a shower. Leaving John none the wiser at exactly what mood he was in.

John paced around the lounge for a while, and 30 minutes later, a clean, shaved and refreshed and dressed Sherlock appeared in the kitchen. Strangely he just stood there, almost as though he was seeing the room for the first time.

_Sherlock could fall down a drain and still look like he'd stepped of GQ magazine photo shoot, _pondered John. _I wish I had that defined chest thing going for me_. John took another look at Sherlock. _Good lord, he's wearing the purple shirt – women everywhere will be having wet dreams tonight. What is going on with him today – I know we've had the discussion about his wardrobe before – he sees one shirt as much like another. He never intends to look like a male model, but today I think even Mother Teresa would look twice. _

Cautiously John stood watch as Sherlock looked around the kitchen, Sherlock's eyes falling on various jars that contained his experiments, with an almost distasteful look.

_Enough_ thought Sherlock as he looked around the room. _This place looks awful._ He spotted a jar of eyeballs that he had been studying. _What am I doing? We prepare food in here. It is definitely time for a spot of spring cleaning._ Sherlock grabbed a cardboard box that was under the table and started to pack up some of the jars. _There is no way that Molly would want to come here for dinner and share the cooking space with eyeballs and toes. Actually John probably wouldn't invite her here. He'd be scared I would be mean to her. I am always mean to her._

Puzzled John came into the kitchen, "what are you doing?"

"I've finished with these, and I am sure you are fed up of having them around the kitchen," said Sherlock, continuing to grab jars. "Didn't you almost put a pickled toe on your dinner the other night?"

John shuddered. "I am not objecting to their removal Sherlock. I am just surprised you are actually removing them." He watched for a moment longer, before trying again. "Are you OK?" asked John concerned.

Sherlock's eyes snapped up and focused on John immediately. "Why should I not be OK?"

"Cos you're acting weird."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Define weird?"

John indicated the now clean kitchen and the box. "This is weird. You tidying up, making tea and an edible breakfast is weird."

Sherlock huffed dramatically, "I'm fine. I just thought that it was time for sort out. Not everyone enjoys sharing their kitchen with body parts." Ignoring John's look of utter amazement, Sherlock shrugged on his coat and grabbed his scarf. "I'm going to the morgue to dispose of these. Do you wish to accompany me?" _It's not Johns fault_, he reminded himself. _It's mine. I left it too late. I should at least try to be happy for her... for them_.

"OK then," said John. "I could do with some air."

_Oh come on John, you could at least sound happy that you were going to see Molly. _Thought Sherlock miserably.

Sherlock manhandled the box down stairs, and walked past Mrs Hudson into the street without acknowledging her.

"Sorry Mrs Hudson, off the morgue," explained John. John dropped his voice, "He's in a funny mood today. He's actually tidied the kitchen. I think I'd better go with him so he doesn't upset Molly too much."

Mrs Hudson nodded. "Give Molly my love," she said shaking her head as John shut the door.

SH SH SH SH SH SH SH SH

Sherlock always seemed to act like he owned the place. _Actually given the fortune that Mycroft has at his disposal, he probably does, _mused John as they strolled into the basement that housed the morgue.

Molly was just putting a body into one of the storage units, when they entered. She blushed when she saw John and Sherlock enter. "Hello John, Sherlock. I was just finishing up."

_She blushed when she saw John_. Thought Sherlock. _Yes, pupils dilated, small elevation in breathing rate. Did she ever look at me that way? Yes, she did once. Why didn't I notice it then? I did notice it then, I just was too stupid to do anything about it._

"Hi Molly, " said John casually when he saw Sherlock was going to be his usual standoffish self. "Sherlock's been doing a bit of sorting out, and wondered if you could dispose of these?"

Molly wondered over and peered into the box that Sherlock had now put down on the one mortuary tables. "I can." She picked up the jar of toes. "OK, that's interesting," she muttered as she examined another jar. "Are these eyeballs glowing?" she asked.

"It was an idea I had regarding biophotonics," said Sherlock.

Molly nodded, still studying the eyes, "the study of light being emitted by living things. I remember reading a research paper on that. I seem to remember a suggestion that biophotonics might be the source of the 'auras' that some people claim to be able to see." Molly laughed.

Sherlock snorted. "Rubbish."

"Probably, but 'It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it,'" quoted Molly.

"Aristotle," said Sherlock automatically. Molly smiled, and Sherlock's heart soared.

Sherlock watched in awe as Molly carefully put the eyes back into the box. _Molly actually knows about biophotonics? That's incredible. Not exactly a subject on the radar of most pathologists. And she quoted Aristotle – not one of his more familiar quotes either._

"Although as that was regarding the study of living things, I'm curious what you thought you would get from eyes removed from a living body."

Sherlock coughed. "I wasn't sure myself."

Molly picked up the box and placed it at the back of the room. "I'll take care of it later."

"Good," said Sherlock firmly and turned to leave. "Come on John."

John didn't follow, "Er, you go on ahead Sherlock. I just need to speak to Molly for a moment."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Very well, I'll wait by the lift" and left the room. But he didn't go far. He remained outside the Morgue looking through the door window, just standing back far enough that John couldn't see him. _You couldn't be more obvious if you tried John. Why don't you just take out a full page ad in The Times. John Watson is dating Molly Hooper._

In his heart Sherlock knew it was wrong to watch, John and Molly. But somehow he could not tear himself away.

He watched them converse for a moment (he couldn't hear what they said), before she saw Molly took a piece of paper out of her pocket. _Pink paper – ladies stationery_. She passed it John, who immediately pulled her into an embrace. Sherlock couldn't bear to watch anymore and backed away, waiting for John at the end of the corridor.

_Molly and John – I hadn't seen that coming. _Sherlock had never liked any of John's girl friends before. _OK the Doctor hadn't been too bad, at least she had some intelligence, but then that hadn't last very long after the Chinese Circus incident._ _ That girl with a dog was pretty awful, and the teacher. At least Molly has some brains._

John appeared shortly afterwards, and Sherlock could see the spring in his step. "All done," he asked scathingly.

But John was too buoyed up to notice. "Yep. All good."

Sherlock quietly seethed. As they rode the lift to the ground floor, Sherlock decided he would not acknowledge John and Molly's relationship. Not until John decided to tell him anyway. Perhaps he could pretend it wasn't happening.

SH SH SH SH SH SH SH

After leaving Bart's, Sherlock and John made their way over to New Scotland Yard to see Lestrade. He had several new cases that he wanted Sherlock's opinion on.

As the day drew on Sherlock could see John checking his watch more and more frequently. "Am I keeping you?" he asked. _Probably got a date with Molly tonight._

John jumped. "Er, no, not really. I just agreed to meet the guys from the surgery for drinks. You know, need to keep in their good books, in case there is a permanent job in the offing."

Sherlock snapped the case files shut and dumped them on the desk. "I would hate to be the cause of you being late for drinks with your colleagues."

"It's fine Sherlock, I have another hour or so yet."

Sherlock stood up and shrugged on his coat. "Nonsense John. I know how long you take to get ready."

Lestrade looked up as Sherlock and John entered his office. "So what do you think?"

Sherlock put 2 files on his desk. "These are possibly an eight, I will look again tomorrow. Regarding the Stroud case, it was the nanny. The Regan case was the brother. My notes are in the files. Good night Chief Inspector, I'll see you tomorrow."

Lestrade raised an eyebrow, and exchanged a glance with John.

John shrugged helplessly at Greg, as Sherlock marched out the room. "I'll call you tomorrow."

SH SH SH SH SH SH SH

Sherlock didn't speak to John on the way back to Baker Street. _What exactly do I say to him? He's obviously lying about drinks with colleagues. He must be going on a date with Molly. I bet that was what the note was about. Her address, or the address of a place to meet._

John however didn't seem to notice Sherlock's silence. However, Sherlock spotted a sappy smile appear on his face more than once though.

Once back home, John decided he had time update his blog entries, and see if any new cases had been emailed to them, whilst Sherlock picked up his violin and began to play.

John stopped to listen for a moment. _I'll never admit to it. But I actually enjoy listening to Sherlock play. I don't remember hearing that piece though._ "Is that a new piece you played?" John asked when Sherlock paused.

"It's just a little something I was working on," he replied, jotting down some notes on a manuscript. "I thought by getting it down, it might stop going around in my head." _Can't exactly tell him that I think of it as a 'Molly's melody'. Actually why do I think of this whenever I think of Molly?_

"What no music room in your mind palace to keep it?" said John interrupting his thoughts.

Sherlock lowered the violin slightly and paused. _Why haven't I locked it up in my mind palace?_ _Because I enjoy listening to it? Because it isn't quite finished? Because it makes me happy to think about Molly? _ Sherlock shrugged and began to replay the tune.

John had finished reading his emails and Sherlock was still playing. _It was nice the first time, possibly even the 2__nd__ and 3__rd__, but really 15 times. _He could see that Sherlock had no intention of stopping. John went upstairs to his room to get changed.

When he reappeared, Sherlock was still playing.

_Oh good grief_, thought Sherlock. _If this was seriously drinks with work colleagues, John was trying way too hard. _He had a smart blue shirt and a cable knit jumper. _That's his 'pulling' gear. _Sherlock had seen John get ready to go out far too many times not to recognize the outfit.

"So, I'll be back late. Don't wait up!" said John cheerfully.

Sherlock didn't answer.

Glancing at Sherlock, as he went down the stairs of their flat, John couldn't help feeling like there was something he was missing. Sherlock remained standing, playing his violin and staring out the window. Shaking his head he figured he would tackle Sherlock tomorrow.

Sherlock heard the front door close and bounded down the stairs, grabbing his coat and scarf on the way. He carefully opened the door just a crack, and watched as John hailed a black cab. He waited until it pulled away, and bolted outside watching as it went down the street, memorizing the number plate.

Sherlock turned and hailed another cab immediately. "Follow that cab," he told the driver.

SH SH SH SH SH SH SH

OK, I've only been in a black cab once, 4 years ago, and then it was my 8 year old son that hailed it. Why they stopped for him, I'll never know. But who hasn't wanted to do the "follow that cab" line.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed chapter 1. Starryeyedgeek, lillil, Sammykatz, morbidbydefault, Kathmak, doctor WTF, Librarygirl157, Nocturnias, Nicoline, Creamocrop, Chironsgirl, halfbloodprincess71, Whenthebirddies and rocking the Redhead. You are all amazing. Getting those little "New Review" emails makes my day! Thanks as well to everyone who follows or favourites, but doesn't comment.

#believeinsherlock


	3. Chapter 3

His Best Friends Girl

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just adore them. Please don't sue – I promise I am not worth it.

All comments, suggestions and corrections are very welcome. It's pure fluff, and doesn't really have a massive plot line.

SH SH SH SH SH SH SH SH

John's taxi eventually pulled up outside a cinema near to Trafalgar Square. Sherlock's taxi pulled up a little way down the road. "Just a moment," said Sherlock to the cabbie. He didn't want to exit the cab in view of John.

Sherlock watched as John adjusted his collar and hair in a window's reflection, and entered the cinema.

Sherlock then paid his cab driver, and exited the vehicle. _What am I doing, spying on my best friend with his girlfriend? Because this is John "Three Continents" Watson, who almost certainly will be taking Molly to bed after a third date, if he hasn't done so already? Is this their third date? Molly said they were taking it slowly. It could be more than their third. I just want to see if Molly is happy. Or do I just want to see Molly?_

Sherlock carefully approached the glass doors, and saw John standing with his back to the door, purchasing tickets and drinks. _I can't see Molly. Perhaps she hasn't arrived yet. _

Suddenly John turned to speak to the young woman standing next to him, and passed her a small tub of popcorn. Sherlock was stunned. _That's not Molly. Where's Molly? _ _John lied about meeting his work colleagues. He would only lie if he was hiding something. He wouldn't hide the fact he was meeting his sister, therefore this is not his sister. John is seeing another woman, behind Molly's back. _Sherlock was fuming. _How could he embrace Molly this morning, and then see this woman this evening? _

He watched carefully as John and the mystery woman headed off towards the screens, John gently placing his hand on the woman's back to guide her. Sherlock fumed some more, then entered the cinema. Taking a note of the door number for the screen that John had entered, Sherlock joined the queue for a ticket.

"Screen 4" he said to the spotty youth behind the counter, placing a £10 note on the counter.

"One for the Hobbit?" the assistant clarified.

"What the film is, is irrelevant – just give me a ticket for screen 4."

Deciding that Sherlock wasn't worth arguing with the assistant passed Sherlock a ticket and some change.

The film hadn't started, but the lights were already dimmed when Sherlock entered the screening room. Fortunately in this cinema you entered from the rear of the auditorium, so Sherlock could stand at the back and scan the rows of seats for sight of John.

Finally he spotted him seated roughly half way down and slightly to the left of the main block of seats. The woman was laughing happily at something and eating the popcorn that John was feeding her. _The two timing little cheat. _

John leaned in gently, and the woman rested her head on his shoulder. Sherlock wasn't impressed. _Oh good lord, get a room. _

John turned to whisper something in the woman's ear, and she nodded. John then readjusted his position, ending up with his arm around her.

Sherlock had seen enough. _How could John behave like this when he was supposed to be dating Molly? I would never have taken John for someone so untrustworthy. Molly is worth a thousand of this woman._

Sherlock turned and walked out the cinema. _It would break Molly's heart that someone she trusted would be unfaithful._ _I would never do that her. _

Despondently Sherlock walked along the pavement. _John and Molly can't have been going out together for very long. Therefore it is probably not that serious. It can't be serious if John is seeing someone else behind her back? But Molly doesn't do frivolous. She would never have a relationship with John, if she didn't think he was serious about his intentions. If I tell her that John was seeing someone else, she would be upset, but it would be for the best. It will hurt, but better to find out now than later. _

Decision made, Sherlock hailed a taxi.

SH SH SH SH SH SH SH SH

Molly had decided that her entire plan for the evening involved a cup of hot chocolate, an electric blanket on the sofa and another rewatch (for the 1000th time) of the last episode of Wives and Daughters.

The story had just reached the part where the hero, Roger Hamley, had realized his feelings for the main character, Molly Gibson. Molly sighed. _Wouldn't be wonderful if real life could be like that. The hero realizing at the last minute that he had been blind to the true love waiting for him._

The suddenness of the door bell ringing made her jump. _If this is Mrs Johnson from upstairs coming to complain about Toby digging in her garden again, I might just scream._ Molly reluctantly tore herself away from her warm spot on the sofa, and made her way to the front door.

Her 'good evening Mrs Johnson' rehearsed speech died on her lips as she opened the door to see Sherlock standing there.

"Good evening Molly," Sherlock said, and paused awaiting her response.

Molly stood there gaping at him for a moment. _What the hell?_ "Sherlock? Are you OK? What's wrong? Is John with you?"

"I came alone," said Sherlock. "I wanted to speak to you."

Molly was confused. _He never speaks to me. He speaks to me as little as possible, and only then to insult me._

"Aren't you going to invite me in?"

Molly blinked. _Am I going to invite him in? Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective, let loose in my flat._ "Of course, sorry. Please come through."

Molly made her way into her lounge, Sherlock following. He loosened his scarf and unbuttoned his coat. Sherlock took in the room at a glance. _Not as chaotic as I thought it might be. Lots of books, lots of pictures – original water colours from the looks of it. Medical certificate on the wall. Family photos. Organised and homely. Very Molly._

_Say something then, _thought Molly as she waited for Sherlock to finish his inspection. A sudden noise made her glance at the TV set, still playing in the corner, and she dived for the remote, muting the sound. "Er sorry." She turned to face him. "It's not that it's not nice to see you. I mean, of course it's nice to see you. But what are you doing here?"

Sherlock looked at her. "Molly, do I still have any chance with you?"

Molly stood dumbfounded for a moment staring open mouthed at him. _I've heard that line before. _A wave of relief passed over her, as she realized Sherlock was quoting from the scene currently mutely playing on the TV. She laughed. "Clever. I didn't know you knew this show."

It was now Sherlock's turn to look confused at her laughing. "What show?"

Molly indicated the TV. "Wives and Daughters."

Sherlock pushed his fingers through his hair. _This isn't going like I thought it would._ "I don't know what show you are referring to." He took a step closer towards her. "I was asking if I was too late?"

"For what?" asked Molly thoroughly confused.

"For this." In one swift and smooth movement, Sherlock closed the gap between them, brought his hands up to hold her face and kissed her.

For Molly the world suddenly stopped turning. The kiss was firm, but tender. Inside her a sudden aching need appeared, and she felt as though her legs were going to give way. She could feel him holding her face and the pressure of his lips on hers. Then just as suddenly the pressure was gone. He paused still holding her, resting his forehead on hers, he was slightly breathless. Molly felt oxygen deprived.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Molly couldn't speak. _SHERLOCK JUST KISSED ME. _Molly's brain shut down. She was standing in her lounge with Sherlock holding on to her for dear life, and he just apologized. _Oh please don't let this be a dream. _

Molly's brain finally reestablished contact with her body, and she slid her arms gently under his coat to hold him. "Don't be," she said and gently lifted herself up onto tiptoe to kiss him.

This time Sherlock moaned as she deepened the kiss. He lowered his tall frame to better accommodate her petite height, and allow her to stand safely back down.

Sherlock finally released her and looked into her dark brown eyes. "No regrets?"

Molly stared back calmly. "No."

"You will need to break it off with John," said Sherlock firmly.

Molly did a double take, and shook her head as though she had misheard. "What?"

"I won't share you with someone else," said Sherlock. "He doesn't deserve you anyway."

Molly stepped back confused. "What are you talking about?"

"You and John of course?" said Sherlock. "I don't know how long you two have been dating, but I believe I was in your affections first."

"But I'm not dating John!" she said incredulously. "What could possibly have given you that idea?"

"I heard you. The other night, talking to your mother."

Molly sat down in the chair, and put her head in her hands. "You heard that?"

"I was working in the lab and I hear you perfectly clearly say you were seeing John," said Sherlock confused.

"Sherlock, I was talking to my mother. Of course I lied!" exclaimed Molly. "She keeps trying to set me up with various people from her bridge club. I spoke to John about it weeks ago, and he said I could use him as a get out of jail card. I am _not_ dating John."

Sherlock sat down on the sofa, "but the love letter this morning?"

"Love letter?"

"Pink notepaper, given to John this morning."

"That was the name and phone number of my good friend Mary, who John saw me having lunch with the other day, and asked her for her details. Not a love letter. Not from me anyway. Mary told me she and John were seeing each other this evening."

Sherlock's brain kicked in. _All my deductions were wrong. Molly is not dating John. The woman with John was Mary. Mary is Molly's friend. John is not cheating on Molly, because Molly is not dating John._

Molly could see that Sherlock was processing a lot of information.

"I was jealous," said Sherlock quietly. "And my jealousy clouded my judgment." He looked at her. "I can't make that mistake again."

_Oh no, here it comes. The brush off. I'm not dating John, therefore no need to worry. The kiss was a mistake, one he won't repeat. _Molly closed her eyes and steeled herself for Sherlock's next words.

"Are those my eyes on the shelf?"

_Not what I expected. Oh crap - the jar of eyes. _Molly opened her eyes, Sherlock was looking at the jar that was sitting on her book shelf. He looked at her quizzically.

"I thought it was an interesting experiment, and as you were throwing them out, I thought I would keep them," explained Molly.

Sherlock stared at them. "I cleaned the kitchen at Baker Street for you." He cleared his throat. "I didn't think you would like them in the kitchen, if you came round to see John. So I got rid of the experiments."

Molly twisted her hands together. "I have a confession. I didn't throw them out. Your experiments - I kept them all."

Sherlock looked at her in surprise. "Really?"

"I found some of them quite fascinating," said Molly blushing.

"I love you."

Molly froze. _Did he really just say I love you? Sherlock Holmes, says he loves me? No trumpets, no fanfare, no hero on white horse. But Sherlock would never say something he didn't mean._

Sherlock moved to kneel on the floor in front of her, and took her hands in his. "I never understood why you put up with me, I am just grateful you did." He said. "I will make mistakes, and I will annoy you, but I will try to …"

The rest of Sherlock's sentence was silenced as Molly kissed him. "I'm here Sherlock. I always have been, and always will be."

SH SH SH SH SH SH SH SH SH

Warned you it was all fluff.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed. You guys are simply amazing. To the reviewer James Moriarty – you made me laugh out loud! Brilliant.

Well done to everyone who guessed right about Molly lying to her mother.

BTW: I was half tempted to have Sherlock tip popcorn over John's head. But thought that might be going a little too far.

There may be a short epilogue – not sure yet – need to see if inspiration strikes.


	4. Epilogue

His Best Friends Girl

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just adore them. Mr Moffatt and Mr Gatiss are the genii that deserve all the credit.

All comments, suggestions and corrections are very welcome. This chapter is very slightly smutty. But only very slightly. It's probably not very original, and quite short, but sorry, it needs to be done!

SH SH SH SH SH SH SH SH SH SH

Molly was awoken by the ringing of her mobile phone. Lazily she grabbed the phone from her bedside table, and through bleary eyes glanced at the caller id. _Mary_. "Hey Mary," she said trying to sound a lot more brighter than she felt. "How did last night go?" Molly listened. "Yes, John is lovely." She agreed. "I always thought you two would hit it off." Pause. Molly stretched slightly and yawned. "No, No, I'm fine. Just a bit tired. Late night. No, just a DVD. He's doing what? Well that was fast. No, I don't mind missing our lunch date today. Don't be silly. I have a million things that I should really do. How about tomorrow? OK. Great. That sounds like fun. Yep. Will do. Bye Mary."

Yawning again, Molly put the phone on silent and dropped it back on her bedside table. _John Watson you bad boy._ Snuggling back under the duvet, she thought about last night and Sherlock's declaration of love. Grinning she turned on her side to come face to face Sherlock's bare chest. He was resting on one elbow, watching her. She looked up to his face. _Not a dream. He's really here._ His brilliant, bright blue eyes were twinkling as he stared back at her. "Morning Sherlock," she said shyly.

Sherlock responded by putting his arm over her, and drawing her closer to him. "Good morning Molly." He kissed her gently, teasing her. "So, am I one of those million things you need to do?" he asked suggestively.

Molly smiled, "I think we can safely say that I would happily do you a million times."

Sherlock kissed her again. "That sounds like a plan. From your conversation, I presume that Mary and John decided they were compatible, and she too is somewhat occupied at this moment in time."

"Let's just say, make sure you make a lot of noise when you get home - if you don't want to walk in on them," she said dryly.

He continued to kiss her gently. Little butterfly kisses, each lasting mere milliseconds. "So before we consider casting aspersions in direction of my Casanova of a flat mate and your best friend, whose first date obviously went exceptionally well, let's consider the situation we find ourselves in." he said between kisses. "In order to take the moral high ground, I consider our first date was when Mike Stamford introduced us, our second was when you brought me coffee later that day, so on that basis, I believe we are probably on our 50th date at the very least. "

Molly laughed and then moaned with pleasure as Sherlock nipped her collar bone. "Those weren't dates. They don't count."

Sherlock paused and looked down at her, "If they don't count, then this is our first date, and we certainly should be doing this." He rolled her onto her back, and gazed down at her adoringly. "Just think of this as making up for lost time," said Sherlock, as he pulled the duvet over them both.

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Thank you to absolutely everyone who has read this, and left reviews. I can't tell you how much they mean to me.

Best wishes to Nicolive, ChristyLoisgilmore17, MorbidbyDefault, Mangoberri, Saavikam69, Hermione-amelia-rose1479, Kathmak, CreamoCrop, beth-TauriChick, rilakjenya, Rocking the Redhead, Snarkland78, Chaffy13, magicstrikes, whytejigsaw, whenthebirddies, James Moriarty, NeonStrings, Edwardita, librarygirl157, Bubbles, SammyKatz, crooney83, Randomiester, HalfBloodPrincess71, chironsgirl, nocturnias, Doctor WTF, lillil and Starryeyedgeek.


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